


Dress the Part

by ArgentGale



Series: Alien Relations 101 [8]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Blow Job, F/M, Obedience, Partially Clothed Sex, Rough Sex, Uniform Kink, fucking while standing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-18
Updated: 2017-03-18
Packaged: 2018-10-07 09:46:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10357602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArgentGale/pseuds/ArgentGale
Summary: 35. “You heard me. Take. It. Off.”  combined with 1. “Come over here and make me.”These two prompts were just meant to be together.You decide to try on Thrawn's tunic.  It is just so tempting...all white and pristine.  Thrawn catches you and decides to teach you a little lesson.





	

 Prompt fill for  [cptgryps](http://cptgryps.tumblr.com/)

 

 

This was probably a bad idea but at the moment you just didn’t give a fuck as you finger the smooth white fabric. So, so white. Pristine and perfect. And his. It had just been delivered. Freshly cleaned and pressed.

It was just too beautiful to resist.

Yes it was most certainly a bad idea but Thrawn wouldn’t know. You could try it on. Just to see.  You weren’t a Grand Admiral yet. Key word being _yet_.  It was only a matter of time. Besides what was the harm in seeing if the uniform suited you?

In a flash you shuck of your own tunic and trousers, leaving only your panties.

Once again you savor the feel of the fine fabric as you pull it easily from its hanger and carefully shrug it on. Of course it is a little large on you, but you can get the idea.

You preen in front of the mirror.  Oh yes.  It most definitely suits you.  You lift your chin and strike a commanding pose.

You are so busy preening and posing you do not hear the door slide open. The measured footfalls behind you.

“What, pray tell, are you doing in my uniform?”  Thrawn’s voice conveys that while he isn’t angry with you, he isn’t exactly all that thrilled either. 

Cheeks burning more from embarrassment of being caught preening like some silly youngling rather than actually doing something wrong, you turn to meet his gaze.

“Take that off before you get it dirty.  I just had it laundered.  Really now. It isn’t time for silly dress up games.”

You bite your lip as you meet his gaze.  It does not miss your notice that his cock is already hard, tenting the fabric of his trousers.

Ah.  Perhaps you can have a bit of fun with this.  Dress up games indeed.

You can play.

You lick your lips, face all innocence.

“Dirty?”

“You heard me. Take. It. Off.”

Thrawn’s jaw is set tight, remaining rooted to the spot and not making any move toward you.

You hold his gaze as you very slowly unfasten the clasp and allow the tunic to fall open, revealing the soft swell of your breast.

You can tell Thrawn is trying to maintain a façade of control. His left hand closes into a tight fist. A blue black eye brow arches ever so slightly.

Your voice sounds distant and tinny. It is unrecognizable, as if a stranger is speaking.

 “Come over here and make me.”

“You want me to…make you?” Thrawn narrows his eyes, and his hand is upon his belt buckle working to unfasten it as he takes commanding strides to you.  His eyes flare into fiery coals.

“ _Make_ you?” 

Thrawn then laughs low.  It is rough and carnal.  

“Oh…I’ll make you.  Disobedient little thing…thinking you can tell _me_ what to do. A little…kitten…like you…daring to tell a Grand Admiral of the Imperial Navy to… _make_ her.” 

The belt comes finally surrenders and comes undone with a slight musical jangle and he then deftly unfastens his trousers.

His cock surges free, thick and veined.  The white of Thrawn’s trousers sets off its deep blue color. 

It is beautiful and upon seeing it your mouth waters.  You want that cock in your mouth. You want to make things right.

He closes the last bit of distance and grabs your chin roughly, forcing you to meet his fiery gaze.

“Do you know the punishment for impersonating an officer above your rank? For even…daring to wear a uniform above your current rank?”  His voice is a low growl and for a brief moment you think that perhaps, just perhaps, you have taken things a bit too far.

“You need to earn the right to wear that. And you haven’t.”

He runs his thumb underneath your jaw.  The action is appraising and possessive.

“But…perhaps…there is a way we can forget this little incident.  A way for you to return to my good graces.  Are you willing to work to earn my forgiveness?”

You nod, biting your lower lip as you cast your eyes demurely downward.  Already you can feel your juices soaking through your panties.  You want nothing more than for him to fuck you. Take you right now hard, fast and brutal right up against the wall. Your legs wrapped tight about his waist as he drives into you over and over.

You shiver.

You were bad. And disobedient girls do not get rewarded.  You would have to earn that privilege.

Thrawn continues, his voice is low, soothing. “I am very, _very_ angry with you at this moment. Furious actually. But, my darling, you can set it right.  Do you know what you can do for me?”

You swallow hard. You have some ideas what might set things right again but you will leave it up to him.

“Please, sir. Tell me what I must do to make things right.  I accept whatever punishment you deem acceptable.”  Your tongue licks your lower lip as you again meet that smoldering gaze of his. 

His firm touch sends sparks flaring through you. He has laid his hands upon you hundreds of times and still…still his touch has this effect on you.

_Steady.  Find your words. He would never ever harm you._

“Sir. Please. I see the error of my ways.  I...I never should have done this. That tunic is your property.”

Thrawn smirks. “Yes. Like _you_ are my property.”  He then slowly eases two fingers past your lips, pushing them into your mouth.   You offer a soft whimper and obediently begin to suckle on them.

“That’s right,” his voice purrs. “Good girl. Very good.”

He allows you to continue to caress his fingers with your velvet mouth for a few heartbeats before he abruptly withdraws them.

“Now then.  I must say that tunic does look rather striking on you.  In fact,” Thrawn pauses, pursing his lips thoughtfully, “In fact I can think of nothing better than having you on your knees sucking my cock while wearing that.  For the crime of dressing above your rank…what better way for you to learn a lesson in humility as you service me on your knees.”  He roughly pushes the fabric of the tunic aside, fully exposing your breasts.  Your nipples are already hardened in anticipation.  His fingers laze upon one before seizing the tight little bud and squeezing it in a succession sharp pinches.  The pain causes you to gasp, and sends a jolt right down to your core. 

“Ah…do you like that, now?  That little gasp of yours. Such…poetry. But sadly this is not about you or for you.  It is about learning a lesson.” 

He abruptly releases your nipple, now agitated and teased to the point that it is almost painful.  

“Y...yes, Sir. Absolutely.”

He then takes his cock in hand, and whispers, “Down.”

You comply immediately, your eyes never leaving his as he now looms over you like some ancient, forgotten god in an old nanny’s tale.  

Thrawn watches you as he strokes his length, his thumb lazing over the glans spreading the precome gathered there.

“Now then. Open.”

Again you comply, opening your mouth and obediently leaning forward as he eases his length past your lips with a rough sigh.

You cannot suppress a moan as the taste of him sparks on your tongue.  Sharp and musky and male. You take him all as he pushes, taking that cock to the base like a good girl, all the while he fists your hair to guide your movements. To go at the pace _he_ sets. The depth _he_ wants.

You caress his shaft with your tongue, fluttering it around the underside of the head, delving into the slit to coax more precome and reveling in the sharp tang of it when you are successful.

Thrawn does not speak, his grunts and gasps are the only cues you receive. As you tend to him you wonder what he is thinking, seeing you there on your knees, clad only in the tunic of a Grand Admiral obediently devoting upon his cock.

Your mouth works its magic and you can tell he is close.  His panting gasps are your only clue and he bucks his hips furiously into you as he nears the edge.  With a strangled cry he then spills into you and you obediently swallow, not daring even a drop to escape. 

He shivers as you gently lick him clean, allowing him to then slip from your lips.

Thrawn does not say one word, only stands panting above you as he collects himself.

You sit back on your heels, awaiting his wishes.

At long last he speaks.

“We are not done here. You are not done here. “

His voice raises a shiver down your arms and spine and you meet his eyes.

“Yes?  What may I do to gain your favor, sir?”  His taste is still heavy on your tongue and you discretely swallow.

“Get me hard again.”

“As you wish.”

Again you take him in your mouth, teasing at the foreskin and reaching to cup and stroke his balls, even allowing your finger to gently tease the span of flesh behind them.

It doesn’t take long. His recovery time is rather remarkable and soon his cock is thick and hot in your mouth.

“Enough.” His voice husks. “Stand up.”

You rise shakily, knees tired from kneeling. “Yes, sir.”

“Look at you.” He rasps.

You are sure you are quite the sight. Hair mussed, knees red, lips swollen and eyes glassy with lust.

He is on you then, his mouth hot and hungry on yours as he drives you back until you’re a pinned against the wall. Easing a knee between your legs he pushes them apart.

He does not bother removing your panties, only roughly shoving the lacy fabric aside before he thrusts into you with one hard stroke.

As he fills you, you gasp.

“That’s right. Mine.” He murmurs before leaning over to bite down at the juncture of your neck.  You aren’t quite sure if he is referring to the tunic or to you.

You wrap your legs about his waist and he begins to push into with hard strokes, drawing his cock nearly fully from you before plunging back into you, fucking you there pinned to the wall.  All signs of the cool, collected Grand Admiral are gone.  Instead before you know, rutting hard into you, is a savage being bent on marking you as his. Filling you. Possessing you. 

It seems that the tunic has been forgotten.

“I want you to come for me. Now.”  His voice is a low, commanding, rumble in your ear.

“Y…yes. I will…for you…and only you.”

You allow the slow dull heat in your lower belly to spread and flow through your body. Each time he slams into you, you offer a soft gasp.  He angles himself to hit just the right places, deep within you.

You hold fast to him, a low keening cry building in your throat and you let go, your walls clenching and fluttering around him as you finally climax. With a final brutal thrust, he too comes once more. Washing your walls with his seed.

Finally it is still and you feel his fingers gently rake through your hair. Feel his body shudder slightly as the final tremors of his pleasure ripple through him.

Taking his earlobe between your teeth you dare to give him a sharp, playful nip.

“Perhaps I should wear your clothing…more often.”

His body shakes as he gives a short laugh.  Slipping from you he helps ease you to your feet.

“Take that off.”  He then unfastens and shrugs out of his tunic, allowing it to fall to the floor.

“Of course.” With a smirk you finally slip out of and surrender the tunic to its rightful owner.

“It’s a bit...rumpled I am afraid.” 

“Yes. Rumpled and heavy with your scent. I’m returning to the bridge.  This will remind me what will be waiting for me when my shift is over.  I trust you will be ready for me.”

Again he roughly catches your chin in his hand, kisses you hard, and then with a smirk and a curt nod, he is gone.

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
